A Quiet Love
by ATTHS
Summary: Mulder and Scully don't say "I love you" they show it in the simple things they do. These stories will reflect how that love grew and changed over time, yet remained exactly the same.
1. Chocolate is Always Better

_Who was that on the phone?_

_A guy._

_A guy. Same guy as the guy you had dinner with the other night?_

_Same guy._

_You gonna have dinner with him again?_

_I don't think so._

_No interest?_

_Not at this time._

Their conversation bounced around in Mulder's head as they left and walked to the car. He glanced at her and tried not to smile. She turned her head at the exact second and he blushed as she raised her eyebrows. Dropping his head, he took a deep breath, trying to gain control of his emotions.

"I can see that you're trying not to smile, Mulder. Quit acting so smug," she said with a sigh. "He was just … I don't know, too perfect."

"Too _perfect_?" Mulder asked, a smile now spreading across his face as he looked at her. She gave him a look and he stared back, waiting for her to say something.

She sighed and stopped walking, standing in the lobby. "While it's not exactly your business, as it's _my_ personal life, but yes, he was too perfect. I had that recently and it was … nice, but not …"

"Exciting?" Mulder asked quietly.

"Yeah," she answered, just as quietly, other agents rushing past as they stood still, staring at one another.

"I didn't know you had been seeing anyone," he said, shaking his head. "If our partnership caused you two to break up …"

"No, it wasn't that, although it didn't help," she smiled, brushing a piece of hair back from her forehead. "Me being away with my new partner, who happens to be a _man_, well, it definitely came up in conversation."

Mulder nodded and waited. He had not known her long, but he knew she was not the type of woman to let anyone tell her what to do. She raised her eyebrows and sighed, shaking her head.

"Well, since he couldn't handle that, no matter what I told him, he and I broke it off. It turned out to be for the best. I wasn't happy and the sex …" She shook her head again and began to walk toward the parking garage. He grinned and followed after her.

"You know you can't just leave the conversation hanging like that. I mean you tell me the date you just went on was none of my business, but then make a point to tell me your past relationship was … what? Vanilla?" Mulder asked, catching up and looking at her sideways.

"Vanilla is one way to describe it," she sighed, not looking at him. He nodded as they got in the car, unable to stop his thoughts from wondering what kind of sex his partner considered vanilla.

Driving out of the garage, he grinned once again. "Scully, can I interest you in stopping for a _chocolate_ shake before we head to the Smithsonian?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw she was the one now trying not to smile.


	2. A Caring Touch

Scully felt Mulder's hand heavy on her shoulder, his closeness giving her comfort. "He was my father," she said again, and he nodded, squeezing her shoulder.

"I'm sorry about this case, especially after your father's death," Mulder said softly. She nodded, taking a deep breath, tears in her eyes. Closing her eyes, she shook her head and got up from the bed.

Pacing the room, she felt trapped, but also knowing being in this hospital room with Mulder was precisely where she needed to be. No one would understand how she felt, and yet crying in front of him was not something she wanted to happen. If she stayed much longer, it was definitely on the agenda.

Physically baring herself to him on their first case was one thing, but showing her emotions was another. She tried to keep them hidden, not wanting anyone to think she was weak or less than because of them. Being a woman was hard enough in a male dominated environment, but to be seen as emotional …

"Dana?" Mulder said softly and she looked back at him. He put his left hand out and she shook her head, her throat hurting from the tears clogging it up. A sob escaped and she stepped toward him, needing someone, anyone.

She grasped his hand and sat in the chair by his bed, her head on the bed, sobs shaking her body. She held tight to his hand, the grief for her father aching inside her. She missed him so much, it felt like a hole had opened inside of her that would never heal.

"Dana, I should have insisted you stay behind. You didn't need this on top of grieving. I'm so sorry," Mulder said quietly, moving his hand to place it on top of her head, softly stroking her hair. "You should have stayed with your mom, your family. I'm sorry, Dana." She continued to cry, his words not making her feel weak, but stronger. His worry for her genuine and not judgmental.

He stayed silent after that and let her cry, his hand remaining on her head. When she finished, she took a deep breath and stood up, reaching for the tissues on the table at the end of his bed, and wiping her eyes. She blew her nose and tossed the tissues in the trash.

Keeping her back to him, unable to face him just yet, she spoke softly. "He was my father. I know he didn't approve of my career direction, but _was_ he proud of me? I don't know. I'd like to believe he was, but …"

"How could anyone not be proud of you, Dana Scully?" Mulder said, and she turned to look at him. He smiled softly and she sighed deeply. "He was, he just kept it quiet." She nodded, her eyes downcast. Walking over to him, she sat down and took his hand once again, squeezing her thanks.

For everything.


	3. Still Partners

His body exceedingly tired, his mind like mush, Mulder sighed as he walked down the hallway to his apartment. Listening to hours of men discussing the difference between a lap dance and a table dance, made him want to bleach his brain. He hated this assignment more than any other and it seemed never ending.

Putting his key in the lock, he pushed the door open, shrugged out of his jacket, and untied his tie, dropping it on his table. He walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge, sighing at the lack of food inside of it. Ketchup, jelly, and orange juice way past the expiration date, were all that sat on the shelves.

Closing the door, he walked out of the kitchen and sighed as he walked into the dining room and his stomach growled. He had nothing to eat and no desire to leave now that he was home. He walked to the desk and picked up the phone to order something for delivery, only to find an X on the handset.

He frowned trying to figure out who put it there and why, when he saw a small arrow written in the thin layer of desk dust, pointing to the drawers. Opening them, one at a time, he discovered a pizza menu, with a note written at the top.

_A pizza has been scheduled to be delivered at 7:00. I hope you'll be home. If not, they have instructions to knock on your neighbors door and offer them a free pizza._

Recognizing Scully's handwriting, he grinned. Glancing at his watch, he saw he had fifteen minutes, plenty of time to take a quick shower before it arrived. Smiling again, he hurried to the bathroom, his stomach growling once again.

Showered, dressed, and towel drying his hair, he heard a knock on the door. Setting his towel on the dining room chair, he opened the door to find a man holding a pizza box in his hands.

"I need to get my wallet. How much is it?" he asked, ready to walk away.

"It's been paid for, man. Tip included," the guy said, handing the pizza to Mulder with a nod. He walked away and Mulder shut the door, opening the lid of the pizza box.

"Ahh, Scully," he said, shaking his head with a smile. Wanting to call and thank her, but knowing he could not do so, he sat down to enjoy a few slices of pizza.

* * *

Hurrying to his car, before the sun came up, he looked sideways making sure he was not being watched. He got in and smiled as he drove away, happy his task had been done without being seen.

He knew she would not call him, but he hoped the small bouquet of thank you flowers he left on her dining room table, would brighten up her day once she saw them.


	4. Ace High

Scully sighed, trying to get comfortable in her hospital bed. Laying there for so many days, she was tired and wanted to leave. Her mother had been by earlier, her sister with her, but thankfully they had both left. She loved them, but had heard enough from Missy talking about repressed memories and how she could recover them.

She could only hold it together for so long before she wanted to scream. Thankfully, her mother saw that Missy was pushing too far and suggested she and Missy leave Dana alone to get some rest.

Resigned to get some sleep, she shifted and closed her eyes. Too many questions were unanswered, but she knew she would not find them right now. She had no memory of what happened to her, and she knew Missy was not the only one who felt she should try and unearth them.

Mulder wanted to know what she went through, though he had not pushed her for any answers. She saw it in his eyes though and she wanted to give him the answers to the questions he was not asking. She both wanted and feared the memories she knew were in there somewhere.

"Hey, Scully, you up for … oh." She opened her eyes to see Mulder standing in the doorway with two cups in his hands. "I'm sorry, I'll go. I didn't mean to wake you." He turned to go and she called out for him to stop.

"Please don't leave," she pleaded, sitting up a little. "I wasn't sleeping, just resting my eyes."

"Hmm, my grandma used to say that, right before she started snoring, so you'll forgive me if I don't _quite_ believe you," he teased, walking closer and set down the cups on the table tray. She smiled and moved the bed to a sitting position, feeling happier now that he was there.

"I got you chamomile tea, and I have …" He reached in his pocket and took out three honey packets, setting them on the table. She smiled as she picked one up and opened it, took off the cup lid, and squeezed a bit of honey inside.

"Now, you ready for a rematch?" he asked, taking a pack of cards from his pocket. "I think I'll be able to beat you this time." He shuffled the cards, winking as he did. He was a lousy poker player, but he talked a big game. She smiled, ready to kick his ass at poker.

She woke up with a start and it was on the cusp of evening. Her bed was back in a sleeping position, the table tray moved to the wall, the cups and Mulder were gone. Next to the bed, on the side table, was a pile of sunflower seeds, the currency they used for poker.

Smiling, she reached for the ace of hearts set inside them and read the message written on the back.

_One day I'll be the one holding all the seeds._


	5. Reassurance

He knew he was hovering. He _knew_ he was, but he was unable to stop it.

The sight of her rental car run off the road, knowing without a doubt that Pfaster had taken her, was an image he could not shake. The mad search to find her before anything happened to her, had kept his stomach at a constant state of unease.

Feeling her shaking as he tried to loosen the knots at her wrists, watching the tears pool in her eyes, her arms wrapped around him as she sobbed into his chest, he hated the way he felt. Elation mixed with fear. He hated the pain she suffered, but she was there, she was safe. Alive.

He held her as she slept, after they came back from the hospital, the medicine the nurse gave her allowing her to rest and recover. Only when she was asleep, did he breathe a sigh of relief, his silent tears allowed to fall. He had almost lost her, again, and he had been powerless to stop it from happening.

She had taken two days off after they came home, claiming she needed to see her mother and take some time for herself. He nodded as he dropped her off, breathing hard as he watched her walk away, not wanting to be away from her.

Now, he was hovering around her and he could feel her irritation. Her eyes flashed at him and he had to physically stop himself from saying what was on his mind, suggesting she take more time if she needed.

"Mulder, if I wasn't ready to be back, I wouldn't be here. Stop coddling me. I'm not … not an invalid. I've dealt with it and I'm ready to get back to work," she said, her eyes set and body rigid.

"Scully, I'm sorry. You were gone and now this, I just …" he started, but she cut him off.

"Yes, I was gone and I came back ready to work, just like I am now. Stop deciding for me when I'm ready. You're not in charge of my mental health or physical abilities," she shot back and he shook his head.

"Scully, that's not it. I would never think you incapable of doing your job. I just …" he tried to explain.

"Just what? What, Mulder?" she asked and he heard the anger leave her voice. She sighed and her shoulders slumped, her head dropping.

"I just want _you_ to be okay, Scully. That's all I care about. The job can wait, but you … you are where my concern lies," he said quietly, his heart pounding, worrying he revealed too much.

She looked up and their eyes met. Stepping closer to him, she took his hand, squeezing his fingers quickly and let them go. She nodded and he smiled softly, her touch saying more than words ever could.

"So, what have we got?" she asked, stepping back and giving him a small smile.


	6. Kalm Recovery

"I've peed more in the past couple of days than I have in my whole life," Mulder said, sitting down carefully, breathing hard as he did. Scully smiled at him, looking up from the journal in front of her. "You're still keeping a journal?"

"Mmm. We'll have to write this up and I feel better with it in journal form right now. The one from the ship has been saved as evidence, so we have that, but I also want to catalog our healing process. Medicines, therapy, all that," she said, writing down how Mulder appeared in that moment.

"Hmmm, just in case someone else gets stuck in that particular spot of the ocean?" he joked, smiling at her, his face and body still showing the effects of the ship. He was getting better, but at a slower pace than her.

"You never know when what we've suffered from could be of use to someone somewhere," she answered, finishing her sentence and closing the journal. "You want to take a walk? Enjoy the beauty of the Naval Hospital?" He laughed quietly and nodded. Standing up carefully, Scully helped him as he faltered.

"I am going to really hate old age when it finally strikes me," he breathed, holding onto her for support. She chuckled and hooked her arm through his, waiting for him to gain his balance. "Okay, this old man is ready for a stroll around the lovely hospital grounds." They walked out of the room and turned to the left, walking slowly down the hall.

"So, how does this hospital compare to others we've stayed at in the past? The showers are nice, I do appreciate that, but I'm going to have to talk to someone about the lack of chocolates on the pillows." He looked at her and she smiled, chuckling as she did. He nodded and smiled with a sigh. "Can we stop at the bathroom real quick?"

She stopped walking in front of the bathroom door and let go of his arm, smiling as she did. He sighed again and shook his head, heading for the door. She sighed as she watched him disappear inside the bathroom, knowing how close he had been to dying on that ship.

No matter what she did or could have done, it was not enough to save him. If they had been there much longer, she knew they would have died. Watching him come back to her had been painstakingly slow, but he cracked jokes which made her laugh.

The bathroom door opened and he shook his head as he wiped his hands on a couple of paper towels. "Seriously, more than my _whole_ life, Scully." He wadded up the paper towels and threw them in the trash can across the hall. It fell in and he raised his arms in the air. "Three points! Oh, celebrated too soon …" He grimaced and groaned, reaching for her arm again.

Laughing, they continued slowly down the hall.


	7. What Would You Do?

Mulder took Scully's bag from her, as she turned to check her trailer once more, making sure she had gotten everything. He waited until she stepped out and closed the door behind her, before moving on.

"I didn't think it would be as comfortable as it was, but I didn't mind staying in the trailer. It kind of reminded me of camping with my family. Well, the one time we stayed with a friend and they treated us to something besides a tent," she said with a smile. Mulder nodded, stopping her from taking her bag back with a shake of his head.

"I'll drop off our keys and check us out then," she said, putting her hand out for his key. Handing it to her, he headed to the car and put their bags inside.

He looked around at the people who lived permanently in the trailer park. Some were former circus folk and some were not, but they seemed to live cohesively, and he took comfort in that fact.

"Mister Nutt said to tell you goodbye and asked for your personal phone number. I hope it was okay that I gave it to him," Scully said as she walked up to him, a teasing smile on her face. He stared at her and she grinned, the dimple in her cheek showing.

"Hmm," he nodded, as they got in the car. "I'll let you know if he calls. He's a damn good looking man." She laughed as they drove away, the windows down, her hair blowing in her face.

Slowing to a stop at a light, she rolled her window up with a sigh, fixing her hair as she glanced at him with an odd look on her face. "You don't think the Conundrum really … _ate_ Leonard do you?"

He stared at her before turning back to the light. "It seems impossible, Scully, but is it any more impossible than Leonard extracting himself from Lanny, seeking a new brother?" he asked, shrugging his shoulders, and she sighed.

"Poor Lanny, drinking himself to death, knowing what his brother had done to all those people, yet not wanting to turn him in," she sighed again, looking out the window.

Driving on, Mulder shook his head. "I don't know, Scully. Was Lanny someone to be pitied or shamed?"

"What do you mean?"

"He knew what his brother was doing was horribly wrong. But, did he not turn him in to protect him, or because he didn't want the jail time?"

"You can hardly blame him for not wanting to be jailed, when he himself had done nothing wrong," she stated.

"Agreed. I'm simply saying he shared in the guilt, at least a little," he said with a shrug.

She nodded and sighed. "But what wouldn't you do for someone you cared about? Someone you loved?" She glanced at him and he knew the lengths he would go to protect her and vice versa.

"Yeah," he nodded.

"Yeah," she echoed.


	8. Worry and Confusion

Scully stared at Mulder as he slept in her bed. He passed out before she could get more information out of him about his father. Something was going on, but she could not be sure what it was just yet. Rubbing at her bandaged temple, she shook her head.

Bending to pick up his clothes, she was assaulted again by the stench of the blood covering his shirt. Her first thought was to wash his clothes and take away the physical reminder of his father dying, undoubtedly in his arms, judging by the amount of blood on his clothing. Knowing she could not do that, she laid them on the end of the bed for him to put on later.

His gun was in the holster and she paused as she touched it. Glancing at him as he slept restlessly, her heart pounding, she took his gun and walked out of the room. Closing her door halfway, she paced the hallway, shaking her head. He could not have killed his father. No matter how erratic he had been behaving the past few days, Mulder was not a murderer.

She released the gun clip to see if any bullets were missing. All were accounted for and she breathed a huge sigh of relief. Knowing that would not be enough to clear him of any charges, she put the clip back. She put the gun into an extra case she had, determined to take it to ballistics tomorrow.

Going to the bathroom, she took out the thermometer and went back into her bedroom. Placing it in Mulder's mouth, she waited for a couple of minutes, letting it register his temperature. His chest was hot, his hands cool, sure signs of a high fever. Softly stroking his face, she took the thermometer out of his mouth.

102 degrees.

Shaking the thermometer back down, she walked out of the room to get him some medicine. Two Tylenol caplets and a glass of water in hand, she walked back to him. Setting them down, she roused him from his sleep, helping him to sit up.

"Mulder? Mulder? Wake up. You need to take some medicine," she said softly, touching his face and then his shoulder. He groaned, struggling to sit up. "That's it, sit up a little more. Here's the first pill and some water. Good … okay here's the second one. Good. That's good, Mulder. That will help you feel better and get some rest. Let me get the blankets pulled back and you can lie down again." She pulled them down and then covered him with the sheet, making sure he was comfortable.

He sighed her name and she brushed his hair back again. Worried and feeling uneasy, she went to rinse the washcloth, and cool it down. Rubbing it gently across his arms and chest, she settled in for the night, determined to bring his fever down.

Needing him to be okay.


	9. Comforting the Grieving

"I've heard the truth, Mulder. Now what I want are the answers."

Rising to his knees, he put his arms around her, wanting to comfort but also needing to simply hold her. Her sister dying was his fault, he knew that. If she had never been assigned to him, so much would have been different.

"Scully, I'm so sorry," he said softly, closing his eyes as he rested his head on hers. She sniffled and took a shaky breath, shaking her head.

"It's not your fault," she whispered, turning her face into his neck. He shifted until he was kneeling in front of her. She opened her legs and scooted closer, wrapping her arms around his neck, crying harder. He held her close and sighed, his heart breaking for her.

Minutes ticked by and he heard the door open. Lifting his head, he saw Mrs. Scully standing there, her arms crossed, a hand at her mouth, tears on her face. Letting go of Scully and leaning back, he stroked her cheek and smiled softly, standing to his feet.

"Mrs. Scully, I'm so sorry," he said quietly, walking over to her slowly, expecting her at least, to lay the blame at his feet.

"Fox," she shuddered out and reached for him, pulling him close. He was surprised and it took a second for him to hug her back. His eyes filled with tears unexpectedly and he blinked them away, this moment not about him.

He held her as she cried, feeling her fingers clinging tightly to him, accepting the dull pain of them as his penance. He heard Scully behind him, blowing her nose softly, and then crying once again. He loosened his hold on Mrs. Scully, stepping aside to let her and Scully hold one another.

He put his hands in his jacket pockets feeling out of place. Being with Scully was one thing, but Mrs. Scully … she had to be angry with him and momentarily forgot as she was overcome with her grief.

They pulled back from each other, Mrs. Scully kissing Scully's cheek, as she held her face in her hands. "My girl, my sweet girl." Scully held her hand over her mother's and took a shaky breath, swallowing hard.

Mrs. Scully took a deep breath and wiped Scully's cheeks and then her own. Turning to him, he knew this was the moment. He stood, prepared to take whatever she was ready to say.

"Thank you for being here, Fox. Dana needs you. _We_ need you. We were both so worried when you were gone," Mrs. Scully said, her eyes wet, her hand on his upper arm. Shocked at her words, he could only nod.

Looking once more at Melissa's bed, she took a steely breath, stepping between them as she turned around. Wrapping an arm around Scully's shoulders, and linking her other through Mulder's, they walked out of the room.

While each of them carried a heavy heart, their grief was lightened when it was shared.


	10. Miraculous Coincidence

_Maybe they weren't meant for him to see. Maybe they were only meant for you._

Scully kept thinking of the words the priest spoke to her as she walked into the airport and found Mulder waiting for her. He stood up with a small smile, staring at her, asking without words if she was okay. She nodded, trying to smile, but failing. He nodded and put his hand on the small of her back, leading her to the ticket desk.

_Only meant for you. Full circle to find the truth._

Sitting down at their gate, she sighed. A woman was nearby with her small child, a little girl who looked at Scully and smiled. She smiled back, the sudden urge to cry, overwhelmingly powerful. Blinking them back, she looked away from the little girl, the memory of Kevin too close to the surface.

"I got you a coffee," Mulder said softly, and she turned her head to look at him. He handed it to her and sat down. "I also got a blueberry muffin and a danish. You get first pick." She smiled, taking a tentative sip of her coffee.

"Split and share them both seems like the best plan," she said, taking another sip. He nodded and set about dividing up the food, handing her the top of the muffin, knowing she liked it best.

_They weren't meant for him to see._

Setting her coffee cup on the small table beside her, she began to pick at the muffin, taking small bites. Mulder shoved half of his portion of the danish into his mouth and she stared at him, watching him chew.

"What?" he asked, and she shook her head, her thoughts scattered, not really aware how long she had been staring. "You okay?" He held her eyes, asking again, and this time she gave him a real answer.

"I don't know."

He looked at her and she sighed. She handed him the muffin top and brushed off her hands. He put it back in the bag and looked at her again.

"Was it a coincidence or a miracle that I saw the things I did? Was I supposed to see them or did I make it fit the narrative?" she sighed, looking down at her lap.

"Why not both?" he asked her quietly.

"Mulder …"

"Scully, coincidence is described as a remarkable concurrence of events or circumstances without apparent causal connection. Could a miracle not be described similarly?" She looked up at him and he shrugged.

"You don't believe in miracles, Mulder," she whispered.

"Not exactly," he whispered back. "I've seen at least one miracle with my own eyes." Smiling, he put his hand on top of hers and squeezed. "A miracle, coincidence, whatever you want it to call it, it was meant for you to see. To be there to save Kevin." Nodding, she squeezed his hand, tears threatening to fall once again.

Coincidence or miracle ...

Why not both?


	11. Falling

Mulder could smell the sweat in his clothing, the stench nearly causing him to gag. He could hear everyone talking around him and he needed to get away for a few minutes. Feeling Scully's eyes on him, he walked out of the room and stumbled back to the surveillance van.

It was empty, everyone busy elsewhere. His clothes were still there and he slowly put his dress shirt back on, covering the smell of his sweat, his fear. He tied his tie in a loose knot, put on his suit jacket, and finally his coat. Staring at the chair Scully had sat in, he remembered the fear and worry in her eyes.

Shaking his head, he sighed, closing his eyes. The door opened behind him and he turned around, finding the SWAT lieutenant stepping inside. He nodded at Mulder and gently clapped him on the arm. Nodding back, Mulder stepped outside, taking a deep breath.

It was still warm out, but he felt chilled, nearly to the bone. He shivered, ready to get the hell out of this place. He had given his statement and Scully was giving hers he knew, but he went back inside to see if she was finished. She caught his eye and came toward him.

"Mulder," she said quietly, reaching to touch him before pulling her hand back.

"Ready to go," he said gruffly, his eyes dropping, not able to look at her.

"Okay," she agreed. He turned and walked away, knowing she would follow.

They drove home in silence, though he could hear the questions she was not asking. Not having the right words, he stayed silent, his fingers gripping the steering wheel.

Dropping her off, he only nodded when she said goodbye. He drove away, not sure where he was going as he drove blindly, his mind on Scully and the look on her face as he turned the gun on her. The tears in her eyes, the way she tried to break into his thoughts, he could hear her fear for him.

Pulling over suddenly and parking the car, he slammed his hand on the steering wheel and started to cry. He almost fucking killed her. The weight of the gun and the pressure of pulling the trigger, still felt heavy in his hand.

A phantom weapon. One that nearly ended her life.

Silent sobs shook his body as he thought of her dead on the ground by his own hand. If he had killed her, he would have needed a second bullet, unable to live if she was not alive and breathing. He cried, until he gagged, opening the door to dry heave, spitting on the ground.

Closing the door, he sat in the car, his body and mind drained. How long he sat there, he did not know. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head, put the car in drive, and drove to see the one person he needed most.

Scully.


	12. Late Night Calls

Scully sighed as she set her book down on the bed, frowning as she did. She took off her clothes, and put them in the laundry basket. Stepping into the bathroom, she heard the sound of dog tags jingling behind her.

"_From Outer Space_, Queequeg," she muttered as she looked at him, turning on the shower. "What a mess."

Letting the warm water soothe her for a bit, she washed and got out of the shower, wrapping a towel around herself. Dressed in a pair of old comfortable pajamas, she went into the kitchen intent on making some tea. Spying a bottle of wine, she decided to open that instead and have a glass, or possibly two.

Walking to the living room with a rather generous glass, she set it on the coffee table. The phone rang and she stepped over to the desk to answer it, knowing it could only be Mulder.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Scully. It's me." She smiled as she picked up her wineglass and sat down on the couch.

"Hey, Mulder. What's up?" She heard him sigh and something heavy being dropped.

"Just sitting and thinking."

"Hey, that got you in trouble last time, you should be careful. Watch out for any insects."

"Come on, Scully. Why do you have to bring up insects?" She heard him sigh deeply and she grinned before taking a long sip of wine. "I saw a spider the other day and he was so large, I swear I might start have to start charging him rent." She chuckled and took another drink.

"Do I need to come over there and catch the spider for you?" she teased and he laughed.

"Nah, I'll just keep an eye on him. You hear that," he said, raising his voice. "I'm keeping an eye on you, Strider."

"Strider?"

"Yeah, Strider the spider. He's very sneaky and elusive," he said and she could hear his smile.

"Wow, you are such a geek," she grinned and he laughed. Taking another drink she waited, knowing he was calling for a reason. He sighed and she took another drink.

"You finished the book." Not a question, but a statement.

"I did." She heard him sigh and could picture him nodding. "It was a bit of a let down, I suppose." He scoffed and she smiled. "At least it was better than the Stupendous Yappi video." Both of them laughed and she sighed as Queequeg jumped up and lay down beside her.

"Turn on channel twenty five, Scully."

"Mulder, if it's another crop circle documentary…" she warned, reaching for the remote.

"It's not, I promise," he laughed.

"Oh, Bigfoot. Yeah, this is _so_ much better," she said sarcastically, sitting back with her wine, petting Queequeg as she rolled her eyes.

"The preferred term is Sasquatch, Scully."

She smiled as she rolled her eyes again, the television muted as he told her once more, about the time he found a Sasquatch footprint on the banks of the mighty Mogoagogo River.


	13. True Fear

_No, um... they think maybe I should come down and I.D. the body._

Mulder walked on legs of lead. _The body_. Scully could not be dead. She could not be _the body_ he was on his way to identify. It had to be someone else.

Arriving at the morgue was nearly a blur, aside from his confrontation in the parking garage. Walking down the hall toward the coroner, the feeling of lead was now throughout his entire body.

"State highway patrolman found the body off a rural highway at 2:00 P.M. Nude, shot in the forehead," the doctor said, business like, cold and unfeeling.

Closing his eyes, the words refused to register. He would not believe it was her. He was here to prove the coroner wrong, he would not accept that Scully was dead on that table.

"Are you ready?"

"Let me do that."

Grabbing and holding the wand to turn the blinds, he paused, sending up a prayer to a God he did not believe in. Turning the wand, he saw red hair and his heart stopped. All he saw was her, until he realized it was _not_ Scully laying there.

"It's not her," he said, relief pouring through him as he took a deep breath, walking away, needing to find her. "Somebody has to call her mother." He rubbed at his temple, his worry for her now painful.

"We already tried." Mulder turned around, surprised. "We weren't able to reach her."

"She's not answering her phone?"

The coroner shrugged and Mulder knew without a doubt where she was. Mrs. Scully would not cut off access to hearing about Scully. Hurrying to his car, he drove too fast, not caring if he ran red lights. He had to make sure she was okay.

Mrs. Scully's worried face was enough to confirm his suspicions, Scully was there. Pushing his way in, Scully came around the corner, her weapon drawn on him. Fear, worry, and relief all rattled around inside him.

She was alive, but her words hurt. The fear she was feeling was like a thousand knives in his heart.

"He's never trusted me."

"Scully, you are the _only_ one I trust," he said quietly.

"You're in on it. You're one of them. You're one of the people who abducted me. You put that thing in my neck. You killed my sister!"

"That's not true, Dana." He heard Mrs. Scully gasp, and then she was in front of him, talking to her, putting herself in harm's way to protect them both.

He held his breath, his heart pounding as he heard her words finally break through to Scully. He watched Mrs. Scully catch her as they crumbled to the ground.

When he could breathe again, he gently took Scully's gun from her. Putting on the safety, he collapsed onto the couch. He heard the sobs coming from both women as they held one another, as fear and relief coursed through him.

She was safe.

Alive.


	14. Breathless

Scully removed her glasses, setting them on the desk, as she wiped at her eyes. Sighing, she put the picture back and closed the file, not wanting to see it anymore. She saved her work and shut down the computer, as she stood up, and turned the desk light.

Tired, so exceedingly tired, she walked to her bedroom. Staring at her bed, she shook her head, knowing she would not be able to sleep tonight. She could take something to help her sleep, but that tended to make her feel hungover or as though she was sleeping soundly, her dreams still plaguing her.

Turning around, she picked up a blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around her. Sitting down, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could still smell the motorhome she was held in, feel the tape on her wrists and mouth, the warmth of Gerry's breath as he spoke close to her face.

She was sure she would die there, strapped down in that chair, unable to free herself. Opening her eyes, she reached for the phone, holding it in her hand. Staring at it, she shook her head and set it down beside her. She leaned her head back and sighed, pulling the blanket tighter around her.

Hands grabbed at her wrists, squeezing hard, holding her down. "It's the howlers, I can see them. Don't you FEEL them? Right _there_." Hot burning pain seared into her forehead and she gasped, waking up, wrapped tightly in her blanket, her hair wet with sweat.

Trying to catch her breath, she had dialed the phone without realizing it, until she heard Mulder's voice calling her name. Raising the phone to her ear, she heard him clearer, but she could not answer, the words stuck inside of her.

"Scully? Are… are you okay? Do you…" he trailed off quietly and she let out a breath, then a gasp. Before she could stop, she was sobbing, tears choking her nearly to the point of gagging.

She cried, the phone pressed to her ear, hearing nothing but her own echoing cries and hard breathing like some perverse seashell. Not a calm soothing sound, but fear and death.

When she calmed somewhat, she could hear Mulder breathing, his inhales and exhales not as measured as they usually were, not at first. Halting breaths that she felt as she took her own.

Then he breathed in deep and she found she was matching him. In. Out. In. Out.

They were only connected by the phone line, but she felt as though he were right beside her. He brought her back from the gripping fear she felt upon waking from her nightmare. From leaving that chair, his hand helping her up even as she silently pushed away, needing to see the sun, get away from the dark.

In. Out. In. Out.

Quietly they sat, giving and taking comfort that would not be allowed if they were face-to-face.

In. Out.


	15. Reborn

Holding the pictures in his hand, he closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of dry grass and warm stale air. If he tried hard enough, he could hear the sound of cannons, feel the vibration of them under his feet, smell the stench of blood and rotting flesh burning his nose.

When he opened his eyes, the feelings and images vanished like smoke on the wind, carried away and replaced with the high dry grass. He looked at the pictures once again before slipping them into his pocket and turning around.

Walking through the grass as his fingers trailed over the tops, he heard a giggle to his left and saw the grass moving.

"Hello? Who's there?" he said, halting his steps, his heart pounding. Was there a child here? "Hello?" He stepped forward and parted the grass, finding nothing. Hearing the giggle again, he turned around quickly and saw a little girl run past, deeper into the grass.

"Hey!" he yelled and ran after her. "Hey! Come here. It's not safe out here. How did you get here?" Running through the grass, he could see her, but he was not close enough to stop her. "Little girl… please."

"Daddy! You have to catch me." Her laughing words caused him to stop in his tracks.

She kept running and giggling, but he was unable to move. He looked around for another person, even though he knew the same way as when he saw Melissa; he knew this little girl.

"You're too far, honey," he called, as though from somewhere else inside of him. He blinked and he was standing in a different field, a white house in the distance. "Go easy on your old dad. It's harder for him to chase you these days."

A giggle sounded to his right and he hurried that way, stomping his feet and growling, making her laugh louder. Parting the grass he found her, crouched down low with a huge grin on her face. He picked her up and tossed her into the air, the butterfly wings she wore catching the sunlight, briefly painting the sky in a rainbow.

"Gotcha!" he shouted as he caught her and she laughed with her dark hair thrown back. She lifted her head and looked at him with blue eyes he would recognize anywhere.

"Mulder?"

He jumped, his arms outstretched, but empty. He looked around maniacally, his breathing erratic. The little girl was gone and he was back, standing in an empty overgrown field. He dropped his hands and shook his head.

"You've been standing here a long time, are you okay?" He nodded, his mind attempting to understand what he saw, what he felt. "Are you… do you need more time?"

Turning, he saw the blue eyes he had just seen, now full of concern. What it meant, he did not understand, but knew someday he would.

"Let's get out of here," he said softly, and Scully nodded, her comforting hand placed lightly on his back.


	16. Healing His Heart

_Why don't you go on home and get some sleep?_

Scully walked out of the office and closed the door. Closing her eyes with a sigh, she crossed her arms, licking her lips before rubbing them together. She stood in front of the door, making a decision, not sure if it would be correct, but hoping it might help.

Opening the door, she found him still at the desk, his eyes sadder than she had ever seen, as he raised them to hers.

"Scully? Did… did you forget something?" he asked, clearing his throat.

"No. Yes," she took a deep breath, and let it out, crossing her arms again as she looked at her feet. "Umm… Karen Ann Philiponte, the other victim we identified, her parents believed her to be dead while still holding onto hope that they were wrong."

"Why are you telling me this, Scully?" he whispered, and she heard the exhaustion in his voice. Looking up, she saw him sitting with his eyes closed, a hand at his mouth.

"Her parents buried an empty coffin in their family plot in East Amherst. They didn't know, not until now," she stared at him, hoping he would understand. He nodded and sighed, scrubbing his hand across his mouth. "Mulder-"

"I know, Scully," he said, standing up suddenly, anger pouring off of him, pacing the room. "I helped a family find closure. Two in fact. Parents now know what happened to their child who disappeared so long ago. But what about m… my mom? What about her? She… doesn't she deserve that closure? How… how is it fair that he did these things, hurt those girls, their families. He changed our lives… _their_ lives." He stopped and shook his head, and she felt tears on her cheeks, unaware she had even been crying. Wiping at them, she stepped closer to him.

"Mulder," she whispered, and he shook his head. Touching his arm lightly, he recoiled, and she pulled her hand back. Then he pulled her to him, holding her so tightly, she felt she could not breathe. He sobbed into her shoulder and she wrapped her arms around him, closing her eyes.

They stood together, until he gently let her go, his head down as he turned and wiped at his eyes. She wiped hers again and placed a hand on his back. He did not brush it away this time, but accepted her touch.

"They are having a service for Karen Ann tomorrow, I thought seeing the good you've done might... help a little," she whispered, rubbing his back lightly, then stepping away, ready to leave and give him some space.

"Scully?" he called softly, his back still turned. "What time?"

"1:00. There is a flight at 9:00 that would get us there before then." He nodded and she smiled sadly. "I'll pick you up at 7:30." He nodded again and she quietly left the office, closing the door behind her.


	17. A Painful Phone Call

_I will be right there._

He slammed the filing cabinet drawer, his fear and worry bubbling to the surface. He grabbed his coat and walked past Kurt without a word, his thoughts only on Scully.

The cold air in the car burned his lungs as he drove toward the hospital. He welcomed the sting, the ache, the hurt. He shook his head and slammed his hand on the cold steering wheel, the pain of it against his warm hands, another form of penance.

"Goddamn it!" he yelled. "What the fuck?! Why her?! Why?!" But he knew why. He knew, and it killed him. He pulled over and gripped the steering wheel, taking deep breaths to calm down, but it did not work, the cold only causing more pain.

Taking his phone from his pocket, he scrolled through his contacts, searching for her name. Finding it, he stared at the one person he did not want to speak to, did not want to once again lay hurt and suffering at her doorstep.

Closing his eyes, and dropping his head to the steering wheel, he pressed send, held the phone to his ear, and waited.

One ring. Two rings. Three…

"Hello?"

Nothing. His words would not come.

"Hello? Is someone there? Hello?"

"Mmm…" he got out, before he had to stop, and take a shaky breath.

"H...hello?"

"Mrs. Scully," he said, and he heard her inhale sharply.

"Fox? Is that you?" He nodded and then realized she could not see him.

"Yes. It's me. Umm…" he cleared his throat and sat up, opening his eyes. "It's Dana."

"Oh, God." He heard and then what sounded like the rosary being whispered.

"She's okay. Well, not okay, but… okay."

"Fox…"

"She… she had some tests run the other day and they found… a mass-"

"Oh, Jesus…" He could hear crying and then she took a few deep breaths. "It's cancer? Is it… is it treatable?" Her voice was now measured, controlled, the sea captain's wife who had to be strong.

"It's… tricky. There are others who had the same type of mass and… and we are investigating that... to help Dana," he said, knowing how uninformative it sounded, even to his own ears.

"Others? People who have been cured?" she asked, her voice optimistic. He remained silent and he heard her sharp intake of breath.

"Dana is at Allentown Bethlehem Medical Center. A woman there is being treated and Dana must have found something that could help her also, or she wouldn't have…"

"Asked for me?" And he heard anger in her words.

"Worried you prematurely," he finished, and they each took a breath.

"Fox," she said, her voice small. "I… I can't bury another daughter."

"I know," he whispered, closing his eyes. Neither of them spoke, silently sharing their worry over the phone line.

"Tell me the name of the hospital again, and I'll be there in the morning," she said as he opened his eyes, and took a hopeful breath.


	18. Building A Wall

"I don't imagine you need to be told this Mulder, but you're not a loser."

"Yeah, but I'm no Eddie Van Blundht either. Am I?"

He glanced over at her and she stared straight ahead, not answering him. She could see him, out of the corner of her eye, fiddling with his hands, before he too looked ahead. She sighed and shook her head slightly, wanting this visit to be done so she could get away from him.

Since Mulder had crashed into her apartment, the real Mulder that is, and found her and Eddie on the couch, he had been behaving differently toward her. She caught him looking at her, before he looked away, sometimes shaking his head, as if on the verge of saying something, but changing his mind. They spent a lot of time in silence, and it was starting to make her crazy. Either he needed to say what was bothering him, or he needed to change his damn attitude.

Sighing, they stepped outside and got in the car. She stayed silent as they drove out onto the highway. He turned the radio on fiddled with it before settling on a soft rock station. Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes, wishing the drive back would be quick.

Eyes closed, she saw Mulder's face inching closer to her as they sat on her couch, his breath smelling of sweet wine. So close, he had been so close. But of course it was not Mulder, but Eddie. Opening her eyes, she shook her head. Disgust or disappointment? Some days it was hard to pinpoint which emotion was strongest.

Disgusting disappointment. That seemed _almost_ right.

Sighing quietly, she glanced at Mulder. He was staring ahead, eyes on the road, but she saw his jaw clenched, and knew his mind was elsewhere. Looking back out her window, she watched the world pass by at sixty miles an hour.

"Would you have?" She heard him say softly. "If I hadn't come in, would you have kissed him… me, whatever?"

Her heart pounded as she opened her eyes and licked her lips. Finally, they were going to talk about it.

"I don't know."

"Seemed like you did to me," he said harshly and she closed her eyes.

"Mulder…"

He was quiet and she felt it settle inside her, building a wall between them. One that neither of them would try to get over but would continue walking beside, getting further and further away.

"Why?" he asked, even quieter, and she knew she had to be honest if they would ever stop and consider a way over that goddamn wall.

"He listened. He came over and asked about _me_. He… was you…"

"Except, he wasn't me."

"No. No, he wasn't," she whispered, and he sighed heavily.

Neither of them spoke again. Instead choosing to stay on either side of that wall, needing to speak but deciding to walk along, too stubborn or too scared to admit their truths.


	19. Uncontrollable Fear

_I know what you're afraid of._

Scully sat in the car trying not to let the image of Harold hold any meaning. Stress, lack of sleep, worry, that was all it was. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath.

_I'm afraid of the same thing._

The same thing. He could not possibly be afraid of the same thing, for he did not know her fears.

Death, as final and frightening as it was, did not scare her. No. Her fear was for _him_. Leaving him, their work, the partnership that meant everything to her. How could he fear that when his work would continue on, even if she was no longer there?

Taking another breath, she opened her eyes and saw Mulder, standing outside the door she had just exited, staring at her. Not wanting him to see her break down further, she turned the car on and drove.

She sobbed as soon as she was away from the crime scene. The late hour afforded her the luxury of taking longer than normal on her drive home, her tears impeding her vision.

Pulling into a parking space, she laid her head on the steering wheel, catching her breath and wiping at her eyes. Sitting up, she released a breath and got out of the car, anger now propelling her forward.

Her hand ached as she walked, the fresh cuts bandaged, but still exceedingly painful. She would need to properly care for it once she was inside.

She opened her door and dropped her keys, heading to the bathroom to get her first aid kit and some medicine. Bringing it out to the kitchen table, she sighed as she sat down. Slowly and painstakingly, she removed the bandages. Stepping to the sink, she was rinsing her hand in lukewarm water when she heard a knock on the door.

Knowing it was Mulder, she debated not answering, but knew she could not do that to him. Wrapping her hand in a towel, she opened the door, allowing him to enter. His posture was slumped and defeated as he walked to the table. She trailed behind, reaching for the first aid kit, her hand still wrapped.

"Let me…" he said quietly and took the box, as she sat down and he followed suit. He opened the towel around her hand and she seethed. "Oh, Scully." She closed her eyes as those words once again cut straight to her heart.

Gently, he cleaned her wounds and reapplied the bandages, wrapping her hand in gauze, despite her quiet protest. When he was finished, he kept a hold of her hand, his head down.

"I don't know how to help you, Scully," he whispered, his thumb rubbing so softly, it made her want to weep.

He looked up with tears in his eyes and she felt it; the same fear, just as he had said. Her eyes filled and she laid her other hand over his, sharing a fear they could not control.


	20. Demons At Rest

Mulder opened his eyes, blinking in the bright light of the room, a dull ache in his head. Groaning softly, he looked around, licking his lips, and then rolling over.

Scully was asleep in a chair with a hospital blanket covering her. He sighed as he looked at her before closing his eyes again, his head throbbing now that he changed positions.

He was so thirsty, but just the thought of sitting up and reaching for the water on the table, made his stomach sick. Opening his eyes again, he focused on Scully, and tried to clear his dry throat.

"Scully," he rasped, coughing painfully, touching his head as he did. "Scully." She stirred, moving her head. Her eyes opening opening briefly, then closing with a low hum.

"Scully," he said again, and she opened her eyes fully, sitting up quickly when she saw he was awake.

"Mulder, are you okay?" she asked as she stood up and stood by his bed. He shook his head slightly and groaned, the pain intensifying.

"Water," he breathed and she quickly held a cup with a straw in front of him. He closed his eyes and drank. Large gulps of cool water that would never taste better than it did in that moment.

"Slowly," she warned, and he slowed down, remembering the pain involved in vomiting, as he had done the previous evening. Releasing the straw, he licked his lips and moaned.

"How are you feeling?" she asked him, touching his forehead, her thumb lightly stroking his healing puncture wound.

"Not quite myself yet," he sighed, his eyes opening slowly. She was staring at him with concern in her eyes. "Give me a couple days, Scully, we'll go dancing." He chuckled and then groaned, his eyes closing again.

"Mulder, you can hardly keep your eyes open, reach for your own water, or sit up without moaning and groaning. How do you think you'd be able to keep up with these dancing feet?" she teased as she ran her fingers through his hair and he exhaled a laugh.

"Maybe just slow dancing then, hardly any moving," he said and her hand stilled, causing him to drag his eyes open.

"I'd like that," she said quietly, smiling at him. He hummed and closed his eyes enjoying her touch, as her fingers began moving.

"Please don't do something like that again, Mulder, no matter the outcome promised." He opened his eyes and stared into hers, and he knew she knew, he could not promise that.

She sighed with a nod, moved her hand and reached for his cup, holding it to his lips and allowing him another drink, reminding him to go slowly.

"Thank you," he said quietly when he had finished and looked up at her.

"Hm…" she answered.

"I just need to know, Scully," he whispered and she nodded.

"I know, Mulder. But not like that. We'll find another way." He stared, nodding slightly as she sighed, her thumb brushing his wound once again.


	21. Ticking Time

Two mugs of tea were on the coffee table as they sat silently on her couch. A man lay dead in Mulder's apartment, and the cancer inside her had metastasized. A secret she had not shared, devouring her body like a stick of dynamite: the fuse long though the flame was rapidly gaining speed.

"I'm so sorry, Scully," he whispered and she looked at him. His eyes were closed, his expression defeated. "You never should've stayed with me…"

"Mulder, it was always my decision to stay. _My_ decision, Mulder." He opened his eyes and held her stare. "You can't get rid of me so easily." She smiled softly and his eyes became sadder.

"Scully… don't… don't say that," he whispered, his hand finding hers and holding tightly. "If this cancer was _given_ to you, to make me believe… Scully, there has to be a cure. I didn't know how to help you, but if that dead man's government access gives me the chance to find what you need..." She squeezed his hand and nodded, knowing that no matter what he found, it would not be enough. Time was running out and nothing was guaranteed.

She was dying and he could not save her.

"It might not even exist, Mulder," she said quietly, her heart pounding with the knowledge which he did not know, the words threatening to fall from her lips.

"I won't accept that, Scully. It's there. I just need to know where to look," he whispered, his eyes boring into hers, and she smiled sadly as her words from so long ago were echoed back to her. She held tightly to his hand, putting her faith in the belief that he would find a cure, as silence once again filled the room.

The ringing of the telephone pulled Scully from her sleep. Opening her eyes, she saw she was laying with her head on Mulder's shoulder. He mumbled in his sleep as she sat up and she stood to answer the phone.

"Hello?" she asked, looking back at him. "Yes, this is Dana Scully." She nodded at him and he stood up, coming close to her. "What? Fox Mulder's apartment? What's happened, can you tell me… yes. I'll be there as soon as I can. Yes." She hung up and sighed, closing her eyes.

"Here we go," he said softly and she nodded, opening her eyes to look at him. His eyes were different than she had seen before: sad, empty.

"I need to get dressed," she said quietly and he nodded, neither of them moving. Finally, she sighed and turned to walk to her bedroom.

"Scully," he called softly and she turned to look at him, his face now hopeful. "It's gonna be okay." She gave him a small smile and continued into her room, closing the door behind her. Tears filled her eyes as she covered her mouth to hold back a sob.

It was not going to be okay.


	22. Miraculous Blessing

A chip. Another microchip implanted under the skin at the base of her neck, to replace the one she had removed, was now going to save her life.

Possibly.

Uncertainty now followed them, keeping them from sleeping and eating. Her minutes were ticking away. She was pale and tired as they waited to see if the man who dealt in lies, was for once telling the truth.

"She's not getting better, Fox," Mrs. Scully sobbed when she called him late one night. "I can't do this, Fox. She… please, God."

He said nothing. No words would repair the pain she was experiencing. He listened to her tears as his penance, knowing this was on him and him alone.

"I'm sorry, Fox. I know you're hurting too. I know how you care for her. I don't understand how the chip will help, but I have my faith and that of your beliefs. I've learned that from Dana."

He covered his face and she heard his tears, softly murmuring to him through the phone line that it would be okay, it _had _to be. He hung up and drove to the hospital, needing to see her, no matter the hour.

Watching Scully sleep, he crumbled, unable to stand any longer. He had done all he could and his efforts were for naught as she lay dying before him. What was the point of any of it if he lost her? No deal he made would help her anymore than had been done previously. If she died… he would accept rotting in a jail cell as the easiest of punishments. Life without her was a prison sentence anyway. She was like oxygen in his lungs. He loved her.

Crying silently until he was empty, he wiped his face and laid his head in her hand, placing her other hand atop his head, as those she were bestowing a blessing upon him.

_Don't be foolish, Mulder. You know what you need to do. _

He nodded gently, holding her hand in place, and took a ragged breath. Moving her hand carefully, he placed it back on the bed and stood up. Kissing her temple softly, he brushed her hair back again and left the room, his decision made, his mind clear.

Pushing open her hospital room door, he smiled hesitantly, worried what he would find. She looked up and smiled and he stopped where he stood. He shook his head slightly and frowned, not understanding her happy smile. Touching the back of her neck, she smiled wider, nodding with tears in her eyes.

"It's working, Mulder," she sobbed out and he hurried toward her, collapsing onto the bed and pulling her into his arms.

Her body shook with sobs and he cried with her, holding her close. He put a hand to her neck and closed his eyes, believing he could feel the life force held beneath her skin.

It was working. She was going to live.


End file.
